One Stormy Night
by Doug2
Summary: Phoebe is riding on a bus heading home. Prequel to the entire series. Please review.


One Stormy Night

"The inquisition. I am heading to the inquisition. Phoebe you can't do this. Phoebe you can do that. Phoebe can't spend two minutes on the same thing. Phoebe isn't responsible. Phoebe isn't this! Phoebe isn't that!"

Phoebe pulled her legs up to her face and wrapped her arms around them. She was heading home. But to what kind of reception would her sisters give her? With Grams now gone her sisters were the only ones she could turn to. No job, no money, no prospects. Only her own old bedroom in the only home she ever knew was all that waited for her.

"I know I can do it. I can show Prue. I mean I can show myself. First thing find a job and then what else comes will come. I know I can do it. And I want no other distractions. No lost friends, lost animals or lost guys. Guys? I am **_definitely _**off guys for a while," mused Phoebe smiling to herself.

The lush greenery of the San Fernando Valley passed by the bus window in the fading light of the evening sun. Phoebe paid no attention to the passing scene. New York to California maybe a long bus ride across the country, but it went way too quickly for the youngest of the Halliwell's. Too many issues, too many unknowns ahead for her.

"Guys? I sure know how to pick'em. Bums. Losers. Users. I worked my butt off for Clay. I wanted 'us' to work. I wanted to make a home, a commitment. And he runs off with the rent money. New York City is no place for the poor or the unemployed. Five hundred lousy bucks a month for that little room we called a home. He said he loved me. I thought I knew that it could work. I knew it could, we had everything going for us. Well, maybe a few things in common. No come to think of it we only had one good thing together. And it was oh sooooo good. Ummmmm!" thought Phoebe warming to the memory.

"And just because of a little thing like one tiny clerical error, they fire me! I mean anyone can move a decimal point. They're so small anyone can miss one. One tiny, tiny little bit of ink on the computer paper and Lord and Taylor is out $9999.99. I mean really, it could happen to anyone. And with no job Clay skips out on me. He was a first class girl-dropping jerk. First sign of trouble and he vanished into thin air like magic. The jerk. Always scheming, always looking for his next big deal and nothing ever came! What am I going to do? I sold everything I had to pay for this dumb bus ticket. And all those great clothes I charged! All my beautiful clothes. Forty-five dollars is all I got for them at the pawnshop. Forty-five dollars! And still all those credit card charges to pay off. I am like totally screwed! I guess those finance companies only send out all those free credit cards to trap the gullible. What am I saying? Gullible people like me. That's what I'm saying! Miss Independence! Miss On-Her-Own! Miss Gullible! Miss Red Ink Extraordinaire! Miss No Prospects! But I'm not like that. I'm not! I'm going to show them!"

Phoebe shifted around uncomfortably after her last revealing thoughts. Self-psychoanalysis only deepened her depression. Closing her eyes she knew she needed help. What Prue said to her all those years was partially true. No vision. With no direction in her life she knew that she needed something. Something she could grab onto. Something to peek her interest and curiosity that wouldn't just be a passing fad or a temporary distraction for her. Something important that she could call her own. Her compass had been spinning for so long she had completely lost her way. Even her search for her father was a bust because it turned up nothing. Phoebe couldn't even stay in school and finish that even after Grams and her sisters helped put her through.

"At least I still have Piper. At the moment she is my only real friend. Come on home, she tells me. We should be together, she says. Hmm. I wonder. Will Prue accept me back? I mean after our little misunderstanding with Roger. If she thinks I was interested in that phony art-loving stuffed shirt! I'd never stoop to steal my sister's fiancée. I'd never do that! Well, almost never. It was a little different when we were back in high school. Hormones and all. Going to his apartment looking for information on a paper was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Never did finish that dumb art appreciation course anyway. He comes onto me and then Prue discovers us together. God that makes me so mad. She wouldn't even listen to anything I said. And that Roger lied on me! What a creep! Prue taking it out on me was the last straw. But then I run out on them. Old impulsive Phoebe. Never thinking, always reacting with her emotions and not her head. Got to work on that. And got to fix that with her. I HAVE TOO! First thing for sure. Different or not Prue is my sister and I have to make things right! I'm going to show her!" said Phoebe out loud banging her fist on the armrest. Tiredness and boredom finally took Phoebe into their arms and the rhythmic vibration of the road rocked her to sleep.

The sudden forward motion of the bus and the hydraulic hissing of the brakes disturbed Phoebe from her blissful slumber. " San Francisco. Final stop," called out the driver.

Stretching to remove the stiffness from her muscles, Phoebe grabbed her backpack and coat, waved to the driver and stepped off the bus into a pouring rain. Looking up the skyline of the city was lit by a flash of lightning followed by thunder echoing through the streets. Running through the station lobby Phoebe hailed a cab on the street.

" 1373 Prescott Street," Phoebe told the driver. Searching through her wallet, Phoebe frowned. "Three dollars and forty-two cents to my name. Why did I take a cab? Still impulsive. Oh well, I can borrow it from Piper. What's some more red ink? I'll have a job in no time!" thought Phoebe as her thoughts turned to Prue. "Prue and I have to make this work. All we have to do is talk it out, clear the air, bring some closure between us. Prue can be honest and straightforward. Right? What am I kidding myself for? She is nothing but a big ball of pent up emotions. She is about to open up as much as that old attic door. Whether that's true or not, we CAN work things out between us. I know I can show her!" thought Phoebe looking very determined.

"Hey, the little sister is back!" cried out Phoebe as the cabdriver looked at her shifty-eyed through the rearview mirror. Embarrassed Phoebe replied, "Sorry, just practicing!"

Phoebe went back to her thoughts. "Too corny. 'Guess who?' No, too mysterious. 'The prodigal sister has returned!' Definitely not. Too biblical. 'Hi guys. It's me!' Maybe, but still it's just not right. The right first impression is important. What am I saying? Piper will be excited, loving and supportive as always. Prue will have me prejudged, stamped, wrapped and ready for Christmas. She can't have changed. I guess it's up to me. I'll just wing it when I get there."

The rain got heavier as the cab turned onto Prescott Street. The closer she got to home, the greater everything weighed on Phoebe's heart. She longed to be home, to be accepted, to be part of the family. As the cab pulled to a stop there was Halliwell Manor dark and forbidding against he sky. Only a couple of faint lights showed in the front parlor window. Leave it to Prue to save on electricity during such a dreadful storm.

"Please wait here. I'll go get you the fare," said Phoebe quietly. The rain seemed much harder and the steps seemed much higher and longer as she walked toward the front porch and her unknown future. Shaking off her coat, she ran her hand along the doorjamb looking.

"There you are. Hope Prue hasn't changed the locks on me!" thought Phoebe.

"Prue, please accept me. I've nowhere else to go," she pleaded opening the door and putting on her perkiest smile.

"Surprise! I found the hide-a-key!"

And thus the adventures began.

NOT THE END


End file.
